


For the Morality of It All

by LuxaLucifer



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 06:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6069634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxaLucifer/pseuds/LuxaLucifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I want a lot of things,” says Johanna. “And I do mean a lot of them. You couldn’t even begin to imagine. But I think I can narrow down the list if you want.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Morality of It All

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my 20 Fandoms Challenge and as a gift for my friend.

“You need to loosen up more,” says the woman with the crooked grin.

Alma knows what she is saying, the suggestion behind every syllable, and shakes her head. She doesn’t have time for this, not with District 13 finally making their move against the Capitol. She doesn’t have time for anything, not even to eat. She begins an attempt to form a plan for getting Johanna Mason to leave her alone but finds herself drawing a blank.

“I don’t have time for this,” is her weak reply, and Johanna grins like a shark who’s spotted an easy target. Alma supposes she is, although she balks at the idea that she is weak in any way. She has worked too hard for that.

Johanna hops off the table she is sitting on to stroll up to Alma, who pretends that she did not see the slight wobble as her feet hit the ground. This war is taking its toll on all of them, and Alma does not enjoy seeing the torture of the Capitol so first-hand. She must do a great many things she does not enjoy before this war ends.

Johanna paces around Alma, effectively stopping her from going anywhere, the only plan to escape Johanna’s attentions that could have worked…and if Alma actually wanted to, she could push past the thin woman and leave. But she doesn’t want to, so she stands there, feet firmly placed apart and shoulders set, as Johanna circles like a wild animal. Alma thinks she even hears growling.

“Is there anything in particular you want?” she asks.

“I want a lot of things,” says Johanna. “And I do mean a _lot_ of them. You couldn’t even begin to imagine. But I think I can narrow down the list if you want.”

Alma rolls her eyes because truly, what response could say more?

“And what’s left on the list once you’ve narrowed it down?”

“A kiss,” says Johanna, and Alma feels her heart nearly stop beating in her chest. It’s like someone has just triggered every alarm in District 13 all at once, except compressed inside her body with all the screaming concentrated in her brain. She doesn’t know what to do; she never has in these situations, which is why she generally avoids them. She does not know how to avoid this.

“Why?” she asks. “What good will it do?”

Johanna raises her eyebrows. “Good?”

“Yes,” she says. “What purpose will it serve?”

“Does kissing you have to serve a purpose?”

Alma lets a small smirk grace her face. “If you’re asking me that, do you really know anything about me?”

“Fine,” says Johanna. “That’s fair enough.”

Her eyes sparkle, and Alma wonders if she really sees all of this as a game. She wonders if Johanna is still having nightmares. She internally shakes her head, feeling foolish. She knows the answer. War has not spared either of them from cruelty- it rarely does, of course. Even the fools in the Capitol have that old saying drilled into their brain.

“What about morale?” says Johanna, tapping a long finger to her lips. “Does that count as a good enough reason?”

“You expect me to believe it will raise my morale if we kiss?” says Alma, who can’t stop her smirk from growing, not quite realizing that Johanna can see it too.

“It’ll raise mine,” says Johanna. “Aren’t I important?”

She snorts.

“I guess I’m no Katniss,” says Johanna, sticking her lower lip out in a pout as her eyelashes flutter. “But you know, President Coin, I think my morale won’t be the only one that’ll get affected. We can’t have our esteemed leader working herself into exhaustion, can we?”

“We can if it wins us the war,” she replies shortly.

“I think the war can handle you taking enough time off to get a kiss,” says Johanna. “Come on, we don’t have all day.” Some of the playfulness has left her tone, and there is an edge now as she tilts her head, looking at Alma so intensely she feels shivers down her spine.

“You think it will improve my morale?”

“Oh, I know it will,” says Johanna, and with that she takes the final step into being _close_ to Alma, eyes focused on Alma’s face, predatory smile softening into something Alma can’t quite identify. Johanna presses their lips together with a fervor that Alma hasn’t felt in many years, not with anything but the life’s work she has poured herself into.

She finds herself wrapping her hands into Johanna’s hair, what little there was, her fingers splayed out on her neck, moving despite herself closer to the other woman’s body, suddenly desperate to feel her warmth against Alma’s.

Johanna nips at Alma’s lips until she opens them, letting the other woman in. Johanna draws back for a moment, breathing slightly harder. “You’re more eager than I thought you’d be.”

Alma feels the color rise to her face, and she is at a loss for words. She tries to take a step back, but Johanna’s hands have an iron grip on her waist. She never even noticed them end up there.

“Don’t back out now,” says Johanna seriously. “You can, but give this is a chance. Let yourself have this.”

Alma’s expression is blank, completely unreadable, the same kind of mask she’s worn for decades, but Johanna always sees through her. She takes a breath and nods, because things are ending soon for one way or another, and people are supposed to do something good, something they won’t regret, before they have to make the big choices.

She is the one who kisses Johanna this time, and she knows that no matter what comes, she won’t regret it. There is a laugh against her lips and the woman presses her body to Alma’s, her crooked grin replaced by something genuine, something good, something that Alma can look forward to for whatever short time it will last.

And it does last such a short time.


End file.
